If this were Chicago, she’d call Detective Mia Mitchell who, along with Dana and Caroline, had raised her. But this wasn’t Chicago and Mia wasn’t here.

She calmed until all she could hear was the dripping of the water into the pots in her living room and then she knew what to do. Olivia Sutherland. Olivia was Mia’s sister and Hat Squad, too. Olivia was a kind person-she’d helped Eve get the job at Sal’s. If Christy was in trouble, Olivia could tell Noah Webster and keep Eve out of the whole loop. If Christy was fine, Olivia would keep it to herself.

“Now you’re finally thinking,” Eve muttered. She dialed the precinct, asked for Olivia. And got voicemail. “Olivia, it’s Eve Wilson. Could you call me please? It’s urgent.”

She hung up and stared at the hanging avatar on her laptop screen. “Now what?”

You have to check on Christy. Hands shaking, Eve searched the online phonebook. Martha had been listed, but there were twelve Christine Lewises in the Twin Cities.

The addresses of all the study subjects were in a file on the university’s server under Dr. Donner’s account. The one time she’d broken in, she’d done so from Donner’s admin assistant’s PC. Jeremy Lyons had typed the names in when the study began.

Jeremy Lyons was also careless and left his workstation unprotected when he took one of his many bathroom breaks during the day. It had taken Eve only minutes to find the file and write down the names of the subjects she’d thought at risk. There hadn’t been time to write home addresses and she hadn’t wanted to know them anyway.

That had been too close to real-world stalking. Now she wished she’d copied them.

“You could just call Noah Webster,” she said aloud. And tell him what? How about the truth? She’d wanted to tell him when she stood in front of Martha’s apartment. There was something in his eyes that she… trusted. Trust was a precious commodity.

So’s my place in grad school. Eve needed access to the server in a way that couldn’t be traced back to her. She knew someone who could do it. Dana’s husband, Ethan, was a network security expert. When she lived in Chicago, Eve had worked for Ethan part-time and had learned a hell of a lot about networks. She needed to phone home.

If this doesn’t work, I’ll call Webster and come clean. Fingers crossed, Eve dialed and nearly cried when Dana’s familiar voice answered. “Evie, how are you?”

“I’m fine.” Dana was pregnant again, due in a month. There was no way Eve would tell her anything was wrong. “Can I talk to Ethan? My hard drive froze again.”

“You will tell me what’s wrong, sooner or later,” Dana said. “Hold on, I’ll get Ethan.”

A minute later he picked up. “Eve. How the hell are you, kid?”

“I’ve had better days. Ethan, I need access to my university’s server, but don’t want anyone to know I’ve been there.”

“Why?” The single word carried all of Ethan’s unvoiced concerns.

That was a damn good question. “I told you about my thesis study.”

“Building self-esteem in the virtual world. Your subjects get to play all day in Shadowland. I wish I were on your study.”

“No, you really don’t. I’m concerned about one of the subjects. I need to get her home address. Can you trust me and not ask me any more?”

“I can do that. You’ll tell me if you get into trouble? I can be there in a few hours.”

Eve’s heart squeezed. “Thank you.” She gave him Jeremy Lyons’s logon and password. “He wrote it on a sticky hidden under his blotter.”

“He’s an idiot,” Ethan muttered. “Writing his password down like that.”

“But so many do.” One of her jobs for Ethan had been to hack into his clients’ networks, to show them their vulnerabilities. It had been all too easy.

“Keeps me employed,” he said. A minute passed, then two more while Eve watched Christy’s avatar swing from a virtual noose. “I’m in. What do you want to know?”

“Home address for Lewis, Christy L., for now. Can you email me a copy of the file?”

“Done and done. Christy Lewis lives at 5492 Red Barn Lane in Woodfield.”

It would take a little while to get there. “Thanks.”

“Eve, wait. How much trouble are you in?”

“I broke the double-blind code on this test. If anyone finds out, I’ll get expelled.”

“Ooh.” In her mind’s eye she could see him wince. “That’s bad, kid.”

“I know, but it was the right thing to do.”

“You’re Dana’s,” he said quietly. “I’d expect no less. Call me if you need me. I can keep it from her for a little while. She and the baby are strong, so don’t worry.”

Eve hung up, staring at the hanging Gwenivere. “Easy for you to say.”

Monday, February 22, 4:05 p.m.

“It’s officially a homicide,” Ian Gilles said when he joined the team that had gathered in Abbott’s small office. “Martha was strangled. Among other things.”

“What other things?” Noah asked, then put up his hand. “Wait, before you tell us, you know everybody, right? Micki Ridgewell and Carleton Pierce?”

“Of course I know Micki.” Ian smiled at her, a rare look for his face. “And Dr. Pierce and I worked on a homicide last year. Good to see you.”

“And you.” Carleton had photographs of the two victims in front of him and he pointed to Samantha. “Have you re-examined her yet?”

“Not yet,” Ian said. “I’ll have her body tomorrow. For now, I can only tell you about Martha Brisbane. Her bloodwork was positive for ketamine.”

“The puncture wound on her neck,” Jack said. “Ket’s a sedative.”

“Exactly. It’s sometimes used in field surgery because it sedates and immobilizes. This is interesting.” Ian pulled a photo from the stack. “These are her lungs.”

Micki frowned at the photo. “They’re blue. Why did you stain them?”

“I didn’t. She came that way.”

“I’ve heard of holding your breath till you turn blue,” Jack said, “but I never actually thought it worked. What is it?”

“Copper sulfate. I found traces in her tracheal wall and stomach. Copper sulfate is found in drain cleaners that clear tree roots. You flush it down your toilet.”

Micki winced. “It eats through tree roots?”

“And skin. I found traces on her face, under the makeup.”

“He held her face in the toilet?” Noah asked and Ian nodded.

“She was held under long and frequently enough that she’d inhaled and swallowed the liquid. If he hadn’t strangled her, the copper sulfate might have eventually killed her. Also, she’d been cleaning right before her death. I found pieces of sponge beneath her nails. Her hands had also been in contact with some very strong bleach.”

“Her landlady said the apartment was filthy,” Noah said, “but it had been cleaned. The sonofabitch made Martha clean before he killed her?”

“Now, that’s a new one.” Jack looked at Ian. “No signs of sexual assault?”

Ian shook his head. “This woman had not been sexually active in some time.”

“Well, not in the conventional way,” Noah muttered. “You done, Ian?”

“Almost. I found a callus above her left ear. I’ve seen it before in victims who worked in phone sales. It was where the headset rested on their skin.”

“Martha spent quite a lot of time on the phone,” Jack said deliberately. “That we can’t find her headset means he took the tool of her trade, painted her face up, made her clean up her apartment… It does all fit.”

“Martha worked for Siren Song,” Noah said. “It’s a phone sex company.”

Micki blinked. “She was a phone sex operator?”

“No wonder her mother was mad at her,” Abbott said.

Noah sighed. “Perhaps Martha didn’t consider it prostitution, but her mother did. We’re thinking Martha may have been killed because of Siren.”

“By a client or somebody who didn’t approve,” Jack added. “We don’t know how Samantha Altman factors in, yet, although she had been laid off recently. Maybe she was working for Siren until she got something better.”